


Language of Flowers

by petvampire



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: "Fuck You" Bouquet, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Based on a Tumblr Post, Everyone is snarky, M/M, Modern AU, Tumblr Prompt, god this shit got out of hand, non-demigod au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petvampire/pseuds/petvampire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's five minutes before closing time when the guy in the black aviator jacket comes storming into the shop, slams a twenty down on the counter, and snaps, “How do I passive-aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?”</p><p>~</p><p>OR: the Solangelo flower shop AU no one ever needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> based on this tumblr post: http://archangelimpala.tumblr.com/post/145970078920/flower-shop-au
> 
> THIS GOT SO OUT OF HAND OH MY GODS  
> SORRY NOT SORRY
> 
> unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own idiocy.

It's five minutes before closing time when the guy in the black aviator jacket comes storming into the shop, slams a twenty down on the counter, and snaps, “How do I passive-aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?”

Will Solace has only been working at Demeter's Floral Emporium for about two months, but he's pretty sure he's never had that specific a request before. Mostly, people come in for the standard stuff – anniversary roses, bunches of daisies and carnations for moms or grandmothers or sisters, corsages for high school homecoming and prom, occasionally more ornate flower arrangements to lay on graves. He doesn't think anyone has ever, possibly in the history of any flower shop, asked for a 'screw you' bouquet special. So of course, he can't really help but gape for a minute, caught off guard enough to have no idea how to respond.

The guy across the counter glowers at him, his bad mood almost palpable, radiating off him. It doesn't help that he looks like he's coming fresh from some goth-industrial concert, with a heavy silver skull ring on one hand and a shirt proclaiming “Ghost King” under a macabre design of a skeleton rising from the grave. Will doesn't know if that's a band, or a bad joke. He _does_ know that the dark circles under the guy's eyes, the way he keeps twisting the skull ring around, and the complete rage that's radiating off him makes him not want to ask too many questions. He doesn't know what, exactly, brings a guy like that into a flower shop, but he's not going to try to muscle him out, even if he's half a foot shorter than Will himself and too skinny to be totally healthy.

“I, uh – well, I wouldn't be sure, myself. Anyway, specialty bouquets take at least a day to assemble.” He sounds surprisingly calm, surprisingly businesslike. Really, he's impressed with himself.

There's a tiny twitch at the corner of the guy's mouth that looks like a grimace, then his lips press tightly together, making a thin, white line, as he apparently tries to restrain himself from saying anything too pissy. “Fine. Is tomorrow too soon to ask for?” It's not exactly diplomatic, but it's not an enraged, bizarre demand, so he'll take it.

“Rush order costs extra,” he says almost casually, though his tone is very careful.

Now Goth Guy definitely grimaces; he digs into his pocket and almost throws another twenty at the counter, though.

“I'll need a name for the order,” Will adds.

Goth Guy sighs, exasperated. “Nico. Di Angelo.” Then he's storming out the door, taking all that intensity and anger with him.

Will blinks in the aftermath, then makes his way across the shop to flip the sign to 'closed,' digging his cell phone out of his pocket to text his boss as he does.

After all, they have an order to fill.

~

Miranda Gardiner (yes, ha ha, very funny, a Gardiner running a flower shop; he's heard the bad jokes and puns so often he thinks he knows them all by heart) has no idea what to make of the request, either. Still, she's been running her mom's store for long enough that she knows what just about every flower means, so she tells Will exactly what to find. She'll take care of the actual arrangement in the morning when she gets there, but she wants everything ready – she's an exacting boss, more than a touch of a perfectionist, if a friendly one. He doesn't ask too many questions, just finds the flowers she indicates, taking careful note of what each of them is supposed to mean. The information gets filed away alongside a hundred other similar mental notes, though he doesn't know quite what he's going to do with the knowledge.

This isn't exactly Will's forte. He's not a gardener or a florist, isn't even overly fond of flowers – he's a pre-med student with ambitions that don't involve coming up with insane bouquets or memorizing the meanings of a thousand and one different plants. But he's known Miranda since they were both about ten, and the job pays decently, plus he can always count on her to work around his school schedule. She knows she can trust him, which is important given how psychotically overprotective her mother can be of the shop, even if she's retired and doesn't technically work there any more. So it works out for both of them; they get along, they make do.

They handle completely insane clients with weird as hell requests together. You know, like friends do.

Will is manning the shop again when Nico di Angelo comes back, looking less angry, more deflated this time. He's a little less menacing when he's not so pissed off, shaggy dark hair hanging in his face and making him look ruffled and unkempt. He's still dressed in all black, but it's less oppressive gothic, more like that's just what he has on hand most of the time. Definitely less threatening. Will heads immediately to the back room, and he notices the briefly worried expression on the guy's face, as though he's concerned he has sufficiently terrified the floral employee enough to make him run away.

He looks more than a little baffled when Will comes back with the full bouquet in his hands, carefully wrapped and ready for delivery.

He has to admit, the thing actually looks somewhat impressive. Miranda has a good eye for this sort of thing, and her care for her work really shines through when she's given a challenge to meet. The flowers are a lot more brightly colored than Will would have expected for so pointedly not-happy a message, but hey, what does he know about flowers?

He grins, passing over the bouquet. “There you have it. Geraniums for stupidity, foxglove for insincerity, meadowsweet for uselessness, orange lilies for hatred... oh, and the carnations mean 'you have disappointed me,' so that's a nice touch.”

Nico di Angelo is gaping at him; he's gone slightly paler than he already was to begin with, which is sort of impressive. “You actually-- “

Will shrugs. “My boss did it, really. I just typed up the receipt.” Which he also hands over: it reads, 'Nico di Angelo – one 'Fuck You' special, rush order'. The words are terribly incongruous with the elegant scripted logo and the floral print background of the paper.

Goth Guy looks completely aghast, but he takes the flowers and the receipt both, swallowing hard. “I, uh... thanks. Sorry about that,” he adds, sounding a little embarrassed, a little human.

“No problem,” Will answers, shrugging his shoulders.

He turns around to collect Nico's change from the register – if this guy is in a bad enough state to actually accept the 'fuck-you' bouquet and look that shaken up by it, Will's not seriously going to charge him for the rushed time frame – but when he looks back, Goth Guy is gone.

~

Nico can't actually believe the flowers he's holding.

He sort of stormed into the flower shop on a whim. Percy has been being particularly infuriating – not that he isn't always – but Nico can't ever outright confront him. What's he going to say, 'it's pissing me off that you're an asshole who doesn't realize I've been in love with you forever even though I've never told you that?' It's childish, and ridiculous. Of course, so was the bullshit with the florist, but he was trying to be some kind of subtle, in the most petty, bitchy way possible (he's adult enough to admit _that_ , at least).

He expected to be thrown out, or at least completely ripped off. Some half-assed bouquet of wilted and dying flowers foisted into his arms, maybe, if anything at all. Instead, he has... _this_.

It's vibrant and lively and looks completely ridiculous against his monochromatic wardrobe, the screaming orange, yellow, pink and purple shades weirdly complementary to one another, but not to him. He half thinks the blond florist guy was screwing with him, but a few quick Google searches on his phone prove that no, he was being completely in earnest. This whole 'language of flowers' thing is completely insane, of course, but the bouquet still somehow manages to subtly convey dislike and loathing, despite the cheerful coloring.

It's weird; it's hilarious.

It's fucking _frustrating_.

Because now, of course, Nico doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what he had ever intended to do in the first place. Leave a bunch of dying flowers on Percy's doorstep like some kind of creepy stalker? Yeah, that really makes sense, makes him seem like a totally sane, rational person. Of course, it makes even less sense to shove a brilliant floral arrangement into his face and tell him it means Nico's severely pissed off at him; he might get the wrong impression.

Even though the wrong impression isn't, strictly speaking, _wrong_.

He ends up shoving the flowers in a vase and leaving them on the kitchen counter in his apartment and ignoring them. He did drop forty bucks on them, after all, and it does well to remind him of what a complete _idiot_ he is sometimes.

At least it lends his place some color.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys are enjoying this!
> 
> please make note of any flower bullshit you'd like to see included in this work; i could use recommendations. xD

He really doesn't do it on purpose.

Piper and Jason have dragged him out to some bar a few miles off campus, even though Nico very much does  _not_ want to be around people. Of course, as soon as they're out and have a few drinks in them, they're focused on each other, and he's feeling very third wheel. So he makes his way to the bar, and either because Piper's been sweet-talking him into doing shots with them or because he's just not good in crowds, he stumbles, jostling into someone's shoulder, making their drink tip over onto the bar.

He has a moment to take in a mop of blond hair, tan skin, freckles. Then the recognition hits him, and Nico feels even more like he'd like to crawl into a hole somewhere and never come out.

It's the guy from the flower shop.

Nico hasn't done  _too_ much damage, apparently, since the blond rights the glass and beckons the bartender over for a replacement, looking none too bothered by the spilled beer. He seems to recognize Nico too, though – how can he not, honestly – flashing him a quick grin. That comes as a surprise. “And here I thought I'd see you coming back to the shop for a refund before I saw you anywhere else.”

He flushes, because the guy sounds more like he's teasing, like he's joking, than anything else, and he still feels like a total ass. “No, not necessary.” He hesitates, awkward; this is not what he wanted to deal with, now or ever, but he would feel kind of bad just walking away. Besides, he really does owe this guy some sort of consideration; he took what was, in reality, the kind of bullshit customer service situation every retail employee fears and managed to turn it completely around. “I did think about coming back, though. What kind of flower says 'I'm sorry for being a total crazy person in your place of employment'?”

The blond grins wider, shrugs a shoulder. He must have been drinking, since he seems to find this entire situation hilarious. “Hyacinth.” He's pulling that out of his ass and they both know it, but it eases Nico's mind a little that he's playing along. “Or you could just buy me another drink.”

Nico just slides cash across the counter when the bartender comes back, a wordless apology.

~

Goth Guy actually looks kind of good when he's not on a rampage, and the fact that he seems utterly embarrassed over both the whole flower situation and the drink-spilling is kind of cute. He's still dressed head-to-heel in black, that same skull ring on his hand, and looks like he hasn't slept in the few days since he last came into the store, but he manages to not be completely unattractive despite that. Hell, who is Will kidding; dude is hot, in a skinny, scary kind of way.

Of course, Will is also a little drunk, celebrating the end of midterms. He had friends with him at some point, but Cecil bailed early because he still has work in the morning, and Lou Ellen has one more test left to take. So Will has been left alone at the bar, mostly because he needs to sober up a little before he heads home.

He didn't expect to see any other familiar faces, since this bar isn't really a common student haunt, a little too far off campus to walk to and from. Yet here Nico di Angelo is. Not that Will even knows for sure if he's a student, or really anything about him other than his name and that his temper is something to be avoided.

He'll admit, he's curious. So he takes the beer the other has paid for as a very obvious apology with a crooked smile, turning to look at him. He's lingering, like he feels like he's obligated to do so. Will doesn't want him to feel that way, but he doesn't really want him to leave, either. Being alone at a bar isn't exactly the most fun ever. “So how'd the bouquet go over?”

It's probably a stupid question, but it makes Nico look at him, a frown making a tiny crease form between his brows. It's more  _unhappy_ than  _angry_ , though, and Will can appreciate the difference, having seen the intensity of the other's rage. “It didn't.”

Will raises an eyebrow. “Kind of thought if you were that intense about getting that particular message put together, you'd make sure it was delivered.” Yeah, he's definitely a little too drunk, being totally tactless. More tactless than he usually is, at any rate.

Nico still doesn't cut and run, though, which is a good thing, in his currently alcohol-hazy mind. “I decided against it.” There's something bitter and sad in those words, something Will doesn't know the origin of the nature of. He wants to, he realizes abruptly, because he's curious – curious about what the hell goes on in this guy's head, his motivations. Where those damn flowers were supposed to be going, who they were for. He was already wondering about them; now he just wants to know all the more.

At least he's smart enough to know not to ask, this time. The silence stretches for a moment, almost uncomfortable.

“Well, uh, sorry they didn't get put to good use.” It seems like a weird thing to say, considering what the bouquet was meant to indicate, but Nico looks so damn _unhappy_ about it. “I can give you a refund, if you want. I mean, I wasn't actually going to charge you full price anyway, you kind of left before I could-- “

Nico is staring at him, wearing the same baffled expression he had when he first saw the bouquet, and Will lapses into silence for another brief moment, sheepish. “You know. Just a thought.”

Whether it's because he's equally drunk, because Will is being ridiculous, or because of some other bizarre, obscure, invisible reason, he sees the corner of the other's mouth twitch, but this time it's not a grimace – it's an honest-to-god  _smile_ , something small, delicate, fleeting, but still there. 

He's definitely cute when he smiles.

“Don't worry about it.” And with that, Nico di Angelo walks away from the bar, leaving Will staring after him, trying to figure him out.

~

“Who was that?” Piper sounds way too excited, and Nico wonders if they've been watching him the entire time, or if she just has a sixth sense for whenever he's talking to a guy. She does have an uncanny instinct, he's found; it can be very unnerving, sometimes.

“Nobody.” Just because Piper is weirdly intuitive doesn't mean Nico plans on talking about florist boy, because that would mean explaining the entire flower fiasco, which goes back to Percy. She knows about his impossible crush – she and Jason are a few of the only people he trusts with that information, and it had taken a long time to get to that point – but that doesn't mean she approves. None of his friends who know about it do, because really, it's insane, and he's well aware of that fact. He agrees with them that it's pointless, and stupid, and he's wasting his time.

Unfortunately, that doesn't change the way he feels. Evidently his emotions are as godawfully stubborn as he is.

Piper isn't taking no for an answer, leaning away from Jason a little (for once) to study the blond at the bar, then looking back at Nico. “He's cute. He shouldn't be nobody.”

“You bought him a drink,” Jason points out, overly observant for once. He's usually not the kind of guy to meddle in his friend's love life – because it's a terrible, horrible bad idea that has had unpleasant consequences for him more than once – but this isn't meddling. Just a comment, if one that Nico finds unfortunate in its timing, since it gives Piper something else to fix on.

Nico sighs. “I spilled his. It was the right thing to do.”

“Kind of seemed like you knew him.” Piper and Jason must have done another round of shots while he was gone, because he can smell the cinnamon of Fireball on her breath as she sways towards him. “You don't just talk to random people for that long. Someone from a class, maybe? What's his name?”

He kind of wishes he had a shot of his own right now. “I don't know.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Friend of a friend, then? Anonymous crush? One-night stand?”

Nico colors, and Jason flinches, swatting at his girlfriend's wrist. “Come  _on_ , Piper, I can't think about that, this is  _Nico_ \--”

“Yes, and I'm still holding out hope for him getting laid before he graduates,” she retorts tartly, before grinning at both of them. “Come on, Neeks. There's a story and you know I'm not going to let it go. I'll buy you another round,” she adds teasingly, raising a hand to beckon over a waiter before he can protest.

He waits until she manages to flag down someone – she's good at getting attention when she wants to, though she more often prefers to fly under the radar – and requests a bottle for the table in the sweetest possible voice. She can afford it, since her dad is loaded. Only once the whiskey is delivered, the first round poured into shot glasses, and swallowed down does he relent, mostly because she's still peppering him with questions, and nothing can be as embarrassing as Piper thinking he's screwed one of his TA's.

“He works at a flower shop.” It's the vaguest way he can describe the entire bouquet fiasco without talking about Percy, and without making an ass of himself. “I sort of... met him there, one time.”

It's Jason who frowns at him, confused. “What were you doing in a flower shop?” Nico hadn't bothered explaining the flowers on their kitchen counter, so Jason has probably just assumed they were from his stepmother or something like that.

It takes four more shots of whiskey for the rest of the story to come out, but by the time it does, Nico is too drunk to remember it anyway.

He does remember Leo and his girlfriend showing up in time to catch Piper berating him for still letting Percy affect him while trying not to crack up about Nico's half-assed floral arrangement idea. He remembers the situation escalating into more shots, anything to take the attention off him. He remembers looking to the bar, trying to see if the blond florist guy is still there.

And he does remember a faint flicker of disappointment upon finding him gone.

The rest is just a cinnamon-scented haze.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> waaaaaaa. thanks for the response so far, guys! i intend on keeping this rolling, so y'know, always appreciate the input and support! <3 mwah mwah mwah.
> 
> story notes at the end!

When he wakes up, Nico is pretty sure there's a sledgehammer pounding on his temple. If there's not, then he wants there to be, simply because it will put him out of his misery.

He hasn't had a hangover this bad in a long time. He doesn't usually drink like that, but first there had been the friendly coercion, then the awkwardness, then talking about Percy, then trying to _avoid_ talking about Percy...

He groans, rolls over in his bed. The sound of a knock reverberating through the front door is  _not_ what he wants to hear, but it's there anyway, making his head ache all the more.

Nico has lived off campus the entire time he's been at school, skipping the dorm life both his freshman and sophomore years; his father might not be particularly present in his life, but he has taken pains to ensure that his son's college career is not unduly difficult. The apartment is small and pretty unimpressive, a two-bedroom he shares with Jason that's only a five minute walk from campus. Normally, no one comes here except Piper (who, if he had to guess, is already here, passed out in Jason's room), his sister Hazel when she's in town and her boyfriend Frank, Leo or their friend Reyna, or Percy.

He's not expecting any of the usuals, which means this is probably some salesperson or something like that. Of course, then again, it could actually be important. The knocking ceases, but Nico still drags himself to the front door, just in case.

Rather than a person, he finds himself instead looking down at flowers that have been left on the doormat.

It takes him a second to realize what he's looking at. It's not remotely as professional-looking as the 'Fuck You' bouquet (which now Piper and Jason have him referring to the damn thing as, capital letters and all); the white flowers look like they were bundled together briskly, though with careful hands. There's a note attached, though, and Nico squints at it in an attempt to decipher the messy handwriting, trying to ignore the pulsing in his temples.

_Sorry if this seems creepy. Boss wouldn't let me refund you, but I figured you deserved something other than rage-flowers._

_\- Will Solace_

Nico stares at the note for a long minute, then at the flowers. He doesn't recognize them, but he can't help the curiosity. He makes his way back inside, stays awake for long enough to dig his phone out, reverse image-search the blooms.

Hyacinth. He manages to restrain it for a moment; then he laughs, not able to help himself, the sound echoing through the apartment.

Jason throws a pillow out his open bedroom door at him, and Piper protests loudly and in far less elegant language than she normally uses, but Nico ignores them. He does head back to bed in short order, but first he makes sure the flowers are put in water, the older, brighter bouquet tossed heedlessly into the trash.

~

Miranda accuses Will of crossing a line into stalker-ism.

He's pretty sure he hasn't gone that far. Okay, yes; he sort of recognized one of the friends Nico was hanging out with at the bar and _may_ have grilled them for information after Nico, the blond guy who is evidently his roommate, and blond guy's girlfriend stumbled out to a taxi. He found out that Nico attends the same university; he's some kind of ancient history major, a year behind him. They have friends in common, though, and he _might_ have pulled some strings to get an address (not that it took a lot of convincing, since Leo has a big mouth and is apparently invested in making his friends be friends, especially when he's been drinking and Calypso is around to help Will convince him of things).

Okay, maybe it's a _little_ over the top. It's not like he showed up on the guy's doorstep, though. It's just flowers. He didn't even go to drop them off himself, sending one of the guys who does occasional deliveries for their special orders. It was all very professional, clearly.

Still, Miranda berates him, until Will promises her that he'll never bring her business into his stalking again (her words, not his).

He might have made a mistake, yeah. It's a pretty big risk. It might have been the stupidest thing he's ever done.

But what can he say; he's willing to take the chance.

~

“Oh my god, he sent you _flowers_?”

How it has taken Piper three days to notice this, Nico will never know. Admittedly, they were all too hungover the first day to pay much attention to anything, and she was actually back in her dorm room on the second, instead of spending the night at the apartment as she usually does. Now, though, her sharp eyes have fixed on the only slightly wilted bouquet, and the note that Nico sort of shoved under the vase just because he didn't feel good about throwing it away, but keeping it seemed too _personal_ somehow.

Besides, Jason got a kick out of it, once he ascertained that this _Will Solace_ was another student, a friend of Leo's (he owned up to having given out the apartment's address when Jason started getting worried), not some kind of stalker.

“It's just a joke he made,” Nico insists, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Or, well – I made the joke, sort of, but it's just a punch line. Doesn't mean anything.”

Piper stares at him until Nico feels like he'd really like to melt through the floor. “Right. Sure. A guy goes out of his way to get flowers that match a joke made when you were both drunk, has them delivered to your doorstep, and it's nothing?”

He flushes. “He probably just wanted me to get my money's worth, considering I told him the other flowers never went anywhere.” It's a lame-ass excuse, and he is well aware of that.

She just looks at him. Piper is usually a fairly laid back sort of girl, but when she focuses her full attention on something, she can be downright scary. This is one of those moments, and Nico is devoutly wishing he could phase through the counter to get away from her intent glare. “Nico di Angelo. You are getting your ass out of this apartment, going to talk to this guy, and getting his goddamn phone number, or so help me I will call your stepmother and have her set up another blind date for you.”

He winces. That had been an experience he will never, ever forget, and not in a good way. Persephone means well, but...

Better to just deal with florist boy again. “God, _fine_.”

~

Will is, needless to say, not expecting to see Nico di Angelo again.

Not on purpose, anyway. Since they're on the same campus there's always a chance they'll run into each other somewhere. But after three days, he's pretty sure his flirting attempt with the flowers has failed miserably; it probably came off as super creepy, or maybe just overdone and stupid. He wonders if he was still drunk when he made the decision to go for it. He wouldn't be that surprised.

So when he almost runs headlong into Nico as he's going towards the door to leave after his morning shift, he is left for a moment completely speechless.

He looks slightly less disheveled than he did the day he came back in for the bouquet or the night at the bar, mostly because he appears to be fresh enough from the shower that his hair is still somewhat slicked back with water, though it's starting to dry into the unruly waves that usually make him look so unkempt. He's still dressed in black – it's par for the course with him, as Will is coming to realize – but he looks a little more... put together, maybe? Less like he's rolling out of bed after sleeping in his clothes after a rock concert. The black jeans look new, or at least not frequently worn, and he's wearing a button-down over one of his odd goth-band tee shirts instead of the aviator jacket. Will takes note of all this in about a second and a half, before realizing that he's staring at the guy he just almost ran down in a mad dash for the door.

Great start, really.

“Fuck, I, ah – sorry. Wasn't paying attention.” He manages a smile, because really, he's glad to see Nico. Glad he didn't completely creep him out, anyway. “Got another special order you need done?”

Nico looks embarrassed, and Will makes a mental note that a. it's a good look on him and b. he should probably stop bringing up the damn Fuck You bouquet if he wants to get anywhere. “No. _God_ , no.” The exasperation there is almost funny. “I actually just wanted to come say thank you for the flowers. I mean – you know, not the rage-flowers, the other ones.”

They're both being so damned awkward about this that Will can't help it; he laughs, running a hand through his hair, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders. That seems to make Nico ease up a little bit too, which is all to the good. “Oh, yeah. Sorry if it seemed too forward.”

Nico shakes his head, and he's almost smiling, just on the verge of it. “You're fine. I mean, especially once we figured out you know Leo and weren't a stalker.” That really was never a concern of his, but Jason takes the safety of his friends very seriously.

Now Will's the one embarrassed, wondering whether Miranda was right about the whole 'creeper' angle. This sort of thing apparently looks better in tacky romance novels and bad TV shows than it does in person. “Definitely not my intention to make you think I'm stalking you.”

“Right.” Nico's hesitating now, and Will slips into awkward silence for a moment himself. It's a weird conversation, after all, and there's really no following up 'I'm glad you're not a stalker' in a way that makes a whole lot of sense. Changing the subject is definitely the better plan here, and Will hastens to do so, though he's not really sure what he _should_ be talking about.

It's not like this is a normal situation. Normally when he talks to a guy, there's been some kind of friendship beforehand, or at least a common connection. A shared class or hobby, a party where they both know people, something like that. Not a completely insane floral arrangement and a weird drunk gesture born out of curiosity as much as interest.

Normal tactics – not that Will really has any standards he usually goes to – aren't going to work. Better to just wing it.

“So, I'm actually on my way out of here.” It's true, and kind of obvious, since he's ditched the bright green 'Demeter's Floral Emporium' apron and was practically bolting for the door before he ran into Nico. “If you're not busy, do you want to maybe grab coffee or something?”

It's ridiculously cliche, and he can see Nico weighing the options for a moment. Finally he nods, and Will can't quite tell if it's approving, or just resigned. “Why the hell not?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> white hyacinth: typically used to indicate purity, trust, unobtrusive loveliness, and forgiveness. also references the story of apollo and hyacinth, or the big gay love of apollo's life, according to trials of apollo.  
> also, it's pretty as hell.


	4. Chapter Four

Nico is absolutely, unequivocally never telling Piper, but he's actually having kind of a good time.

He was worried. Mostly because things were already so damn awkward, and the complete lack of ability to have a conversation that didn't involve the words 'stalker' or 'Fuck You bouquet' was a little disheartening. But maybe being outside the flower shop made things less weird; or maybe he's just realizing that Will is actually a nice guy, who he kind of wishes he had met under less bizarre circumstances.

They've made their way to a hole-in-the-wall cafe that is well known and loved by students the university over, and have actually managed to procure a table, which is nothing short of a miracle. Will has managed to sneakily pay for both of their coffees before Nico really noticed what he was doing, which is both impressive and sort of sweet. It's not a huge gesture, and Will doesn't make a big deal of it, which makes it somewhat nicer than if he clearly expected it to be taken note of.

“So what are you studying?” It's a good question – they've already chatted about the people they have in common, Will laughingly relaying the conversation he had with Leo that led to the flower-delivery debacle. Now they're into unfamiliar territory, but school is always a safe topic. 

Besides, he kind of doubts Will is in school to be a florist. He isn't really sure there  _ is _ such a thing.

“I'm in pre-med,” the blond admits, looking down at the table a little bashfully. Nico's sort of impressed. Not that he really knew what to expect from Will, but he was guessing music or some kind of liberal arts studies or something. Medical school would not have been his first guess. 

Apparently the fact that he's impressed shows on his face, since Will grins at him when he looks back up. Nico quickly schools his expression back into impassivity, taking a sip of his coffee. “What, no masters of floral linguistics in your future?”

“I'd have had to go to a specialty school in North Dakota for that,” Will replies with mock-seriousness, managing not to laugh for about a fraction of a second. Nico snorts, and the blond looks far too pleased with himself. “Nah, I've wanted to go into medicine since I was about fourteen. The flower shop is just a side job; easier than waiting tables, and my manager's a friend.” Another brief pause, a brief sip of coffee. “How about you?”

Nico doesn't typically like discussing his major, since it's not something that makes sense to a lot of people. He gets the frequent question of 'well, what kind of job are you going to get with that?' and doesn't enjoy talking about the fact that, with his dad being who he is, future employment isn't exactly a huge concern of his. His father owns one of the largest chains of funeral homes in the continental United States – Nico will probably end up in the family business at some point, so he decided to take his college years (and hopefully a few after) to study something he's actually interested in. Maybe he'll find some use in it after and be able to break away from the family expectations, who knows.

“History,” he says evasively, but Will raises an eyebrow at him, clearly indicating that Leo has already told him more than that. He sighs, shrugs a shoulder. “Ancient civilizations, with a focus on myths of afterlives or a collective underworld.” It's very specific, Nico is well aware, but he finds it fascinating. Other people find it creepy.

“Macabre,” Will comments, but he sounds more entertained than disturbed. “Anyone else in on the same type of research, or is it just you?”

“Just me. Most sophomore history majors still don't have a clue what they want to focus on,” he adds. Nico has always been very intent, though, able to hone in his attention on what he wants. He has issues with ADHD, but they run more on the hyperfocus side of the spectrum when he's dealing with something he's interested in. 

They chat about school for a while – professors they've had in common for gen eds, some standard bitching about the cafeteria food and the layout of a few of the major classroom buildings. It's light, easy, and Nico finds it's comfortable to talk to Will in a way he doesn't usually feel around people he hasn't known for long. It took Jason  _ forever _ to break down the walls Nico's got up, and he's known him a lot longer. Will just doesn't seem to acknowledge those walls, though, like he's walking through them rather than breaking them down.

They turn easily from school to what they both do in their spare time, Will coaxing an admission from Nico that he still indulges in the occasional Mythomagic game, Nico getting Will to admit to the fact that he's a huge fan of some utterly bizarre music. It's all pretty standard stuff, if a good deal more relaxed than Nico usually is.

He still knows it's going to come up, eventually. So he's not surprised when Will looks down at his cardboard coffee cup (mostly empty by now), and asks: “So, what was up with the flowers?”

Nico knew it was coming, but he still tenses up, all the ease and comfort he'd been displaying gone in a moment. “I don't really want to talk about it.”

~

Will knows he's touched a sore spot before the words are out of his mouth.

To be fair, he's known it since the moment Nico first walked into the store. Obviously there had to have been something wrong, some reason for him to come in with such a request. Will has edged around the topic a couple of times in the very few words he'd exchanged with the other before now, but he's never gotten the full story. Now he's finally asked outright, and already Nico is clamming up, closing off.

His coffee cup is empty, so he sets it down, not really needing the distraction. Instead he focuses on Nico. “It's not a huge deal. I know it can't really have been anything good; you were  _ really _ pissed off the first time you came in.” He hazards a smile. “Like,  _ scary _ pissed off. But I'd still like to know.”

Nico goes quiet for a long moment, not looking at him. Will doesn't look away, though. There are serious lines etched into the other's face that he's way too young to have, some kind of old weight he's been carrying around with him for god only knows how long. He's no expert, but he's seen that look before. It's not a fresh wound, not just some flare of rage at something with no background, no basis. Nico's temperamental, but that kind of anger isn't a common occurrence, Will has a feeling.

“Just... somebody I know. He has a tendency to say exactly the wrong things at the exact wrong times. Drives me up a wall.” It's not a very specific answer, Will notes, but it's more than he thought he would get. He smiles, attempting to be encouraging. 

“This paragon of idiocy have a name?” He makes the question casual.

Nico studies him with hard eyes for a moment, then concedes. “Percy. Friend of mine.” He sounds bitter, like 'friend' isn't the word he's looking for, which with the description he's just given makes sense.

Of course, it's not the wording Will fixes on. “Percy  _ Jackson _ ?” It's an automatic response, and he realizes immediately that he shouldn't have said anything, because Nico almost flinches. But Percy isn't exactly a common name, for one, and everyone on campus knows or at least knows  _ of _ Percy Jackson, which means it's hard not to draw the connection. The guy is kind of a university legend. He's captain of the swim team, knows just about everybody in his year and otherwise, and everybody has  _ some _ kind of story about him. It's not that he's ostentatious, but he tends to act without thinking whenever he thinks it's needed. So there's a million and one anecdotes floating around, all of them melding together into a sort of hero worship.

By the dark, drowning look in Nico's eyes, it's not hero worship for him.

It hits Will like lighting out of a clear sky, an immediate, unfortunate understanding. He's always been good at reading people, but even as closed off as Nico typically is, that one glimpse of something moving behind his eyes makes it excruciatingly clear. Of course that's how it is – because there's no way someone like Nico does completely insane things on a whim. He's driven by something deeper.

“You care about him.” It's a statement, not a question. And there's sympathy in it, because everyone knows that Percy Jackson is with Annabeth Chase, that they're widely considered to be a perfect couple, that they're not going anywhere. 

Nico's expression goes hard again, not just defensive, but  _ angry _ . “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Will can't help but be frustrated by that; he's not a fool, and Nico has to know that right now, he's not doing the best job of hiding. He could convince just about anyone else, yeah, but no one else really has the full story. Hell, Will still doesn't, but he has pieces of it that others don't. It's hard not to catch on, once the pieces start falling into place. Nico has to know that.

“Come on, Nico. I get it, I mean-- not Percy specifically, obviously, but it's not like you're the first person in the world to-- “

The attempt to get the other to ease down is met with the exact opposite reaction, Nico's palms slamming down against the table, loud enough to draw the attention of other patrons. He's flushed, though with anger or embarrassment Will can't exactly tell. Some of both, he's guessing. “ _ You _ don't know what you're talking about.” His voice is cold, as angry as Will has ever heard it, even given how they first met. 

Then he's picking up his empty coffee cup, crumpling the cardboard in his fist, and just – walking away.

And Will knows he's made a mistake, bringing this up, but he doesn't know how to deal with  _ this _ .

So of course he follows. How can he not? They were doing so well, just a few minutes ago.

~

He doesn't want Will to follow him. He has no intention of talking about this any further. Hell, he doesn't even like discussing this particular topic with his friends, with people he  _ trusts _ ; he barely knows Will, certainly doesn't know how the other was able to cut to the quick so easily, to pinpoint the one thing Nico keeps very carefully hidden. He's not sure if he's just not as good at keeping his emotions in check as he thought, or if Will is just  _ that _ intuitive, but he doesn't care. It's not the 'how' this happened that matters. It's been dragged out into the open, and he's intent on shoving it back into the darkness, pushing it away and refusing to acknowledge it.

Which would be easier if Will Solace would  _ leave him alone _ .

He speeds up, but Will has longer legs than him, can still catch up. Nico can hear his footsteps as he falls into step just a pace or so behind him, but he doesn't look at him. His shoulders are drawn up tight and stiff, every line of his body language screaming anger, unhappiness. He doesn't say anything, just determinedly ignores the blond imbecile following him.

“Nico, just hang on,” Will implores, sounding slightly breathless, like he had to jog to catch up; Nico take a little bit of vindictive joy in that. “Why are you so pissed off? This can't be the first time anyone's figured this out, you can't be  _ constantly _ hiding from everybody you know.” His words just make Nico angrier, because yeah, that's exactly what he's doing, with good damn reason. Enough people know how freaking  _ stupid _ he is when it comes to Percy already. He doesn't need to add anyone to the list.

So he finally whirls around to face the other, glaring. “I can do whatever the hell I want, Will. You barely know anything about me; you certainly don't get the right to tell me what I can and can't do.” His words are sharp, cutting, and Will looks hurt, something that Nico feels bad about for the faintest flicker of a moment. He has good intentions, Nico's sure, but that doesn't matter right now. “So do me a favor: drop the subject, and leave me alone.” 

Then he's walking away again.

This time, Will doesn't follow, and Nico doesn't entirely know how to rationalize the little swell of disappointment he feels. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIT'S GONNA GET EMOTIONAL, Y'ALL.
> 
> as always, thank you to my lovely readers. stick around, there is more yet to come!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS! i'm still on this, i promise. <3 thanks for all the comments, kudos, and support! stay tuned, there's more to come! please feel free to follow me on tumblr: http://pvtheundying.tumblr.com/

“You did _what_?”

Nico groans, burying his head into his pillow. “Piper. I don't want to talk about it.”

It's been three days since his disastrous coffee date, and he's frankly surprised that she has even waited this long to ask about it. Not that Nico has given her the opportunity, given he's basically been hiding in his room for those three days. He had told Jason about what happened when he got home, though (sort of had to, since his roommate deserved to know why he looked like he was about to murder something), and clearly word has spread from there.

Piper is standing in his doorway, and he can almost _hear_ her shaking her head at him. “That's great and all, but seriously, Nico? What _happened_?” Maybe Jason hasn't told her everything – then again, he didn't exactly tell his roommate the details, either. Just that Will pissed him off and he left him there. It's not exactly flattering, and he doesn't want to bring up the fact that Percy was the reason for the whole issue.

That will just lead to another conversation he doesn't want to have. His friends have basically gotten to the point of staging an intervention for him by now, and still, nothing's changed. Nico doesn't want to hear about it again, doesn't want to hear how worried they are about him, about how fixating on someone who can never return his feelings is unhealthy. He knows. He knows his behavior with Will was stupid, blown out of proportion, but he can't help it. And it's done now, it's not like he can take it back.

Piper sighs from the doorway. “Okay,” she says softly, deceptively gentle. “Fine. You don't have to talk about it.” Then she's walking away – but Nico doesn't trust that it's over, because she doesn't give up that easy.

He stays buried in his bed, doesn't get up when twenty minutes later there's a sharp knock on their front door. Footsteps come toward his room and he doesn't shift, not even when he hears the door open, when a weight settles onto the edge of his mattress and a hand touches his shoulder, lightly so as not to startle him.

He would normally be irritated, but he knows that touch. He knows the faint scent of cinnamon, knows the voice that speaks up, gentle and careful. “Hey, Nico.”

Finally he turns his head, though he can't manage anything close to a smile for his sister. “Hazel. I didn't know you were in town.” He feels more than a little guilty about that, wonders if he forgot something important because he's been wallowing in self-pity (and yes, he does recognize that's what he's doing, and he's not proud of it).

His sister – stepsister, if they're being technical, which they never are – just pats his shoulder. “I just got in. Unplanned visit, I had a few extra days off so I thought I'd come see you.” Hazel isn't that far away, going to school a few states north, but she's busy with her studies and work (since she doesn't like to take advantage of their dad's offer to put both his kids through college), so Nico doesn't get to see her as often as he'd like. Now, when she's here out of the blue, he's too damn wrapped up in his own idiocy to know as soon as she sets foot in town, like he normally does.

God, he sucks as a brother. And as just about everything else, right now.

He drops his head back against the pillow, sort of wishing he could just smother himself. Hazel rubs soothing circles into his back, one of the few people who can touch him who he doesn't snap at. They may not be full-blooded siblings, but Nico has never treated her like anything but family. He didn't even know she existed for a long time, and part of him felt like she was an attempted replacement for his other sister, who'd passed when he was much younger, but intellect and a guilty conscience had made him accept that wasn't the truth, made him welcome her. It had grown into true familial affection over the years, and now she's a confidante, one of the people who knows everything about him, accepts everything.

So when she asks him what's going on, voice careful and gentle, Nico cracks.

He can almost feel the look she's giving him as he talks, voice half muffled because he refuses to pick his head up out of the pillow. Hazel doesn't approve of her brother's fixation with Percy – no one does, really, but she's also a little old fashioned, though she has never held Nico's preferences against him – and she certainly doesn't approve of him letting it ruin any chances he has at anything else. If he lets it run his life, color everything he does, he's never going to be happy. That much is obvious.

It's also obvious that things have gotten out of hand, if Nico's snapping at someone who's only trying to be nice just because he's figured out something Nico doesn't want him to know. Hazel waits until he's finished to make her opinion known, though, holding her silence until Nico's words stop, until he lets out an almost pained, exasperated sigh and buries his face deeper into his pillow.

“You know you overreacted.” Her words aren't cold, but they're making sure her brother's head is where hers is, making sure they're on the same page. Nico nods, as much as he can from where he is. Hazel suppresses her own sigh. “So why haven't you done something to make it right?”

Now he lifts his head again, and his eyes are slightly bloodshot when he looks at her; he might have been hiding in bed for days, but he clearly hasn't been sleeping. “What am I supposed to do? Tell him I didn't mean to snap at him, except I absolutely did, because he has no business prying into my personal life, but I'm sorry I got so angry? He'll probably think I'm a lunatic.”

“He probably thought you were a lunatic before,” she points out, unable to prevent the smallest of smiles from tugging at her lips. This Will guy has stood through one of her brother's more exceptionally bizarre days; she hasn't even met him, but she has to respect him for that. Nico can be eccentric, temperamental, can hold grudges like nobody's business -and can hold onto things he doesn't need, and ignore the things that maybe he does. “Look. You can ignore him for the rest of your life, if you want, but it's a small town, and you've already run into him when you didn't expect to. Maybe that's okay, maybe it's not a big deal, because from what you've told me he doesn't seem like the kind of person to try to make your life difficult.” She shrugs a shoulder, pauses a moment to let her words sink in. “But I don't think you want to do that.”

“It would be easier,” Nico mutters, but he doesn't sound terribly confident in his words.

Hazel purses her lips, gives him a hard, disapproving look. “But it's not what you want. Right?” She could hear it in Nico's voice when he talked about Will; it's not the same way he talks about Percy, no, but he's been holding onto that crush for years, building onto it with time and experience. He likes this flower guy, though, even if it's a begrudgingly admitted sort of like. It's enough that he feels bad for snapping at him, which is rare enough.

So she stares at him, pins him with her gaze until he wilts. “No. Not really.”

Her expression relaxes, and she squeezes his shoulder again, reassuring. “So all you have to do is figure out a way to apologize.”

Nico rolls over onto his side. He's silent for a long few moments, but finally he sits up, leaning briefly against his sister to give her a one-armed, sidelong hug. “... I think I have an idea.”

Hazel smiles. “Good. And I'm happy to help, if you need it. But... maybe get some food in you and shower first?”

~

It's been four days, and Will still doesn't entirely know what he did wrong.

He's fixating on it, he knows he is, but it's confusing him, _baffling_ him, keeping him from being able to focus on anything else. One second Nico was fine, the next snapping at him, and yeah, maybe Will pushed a little too hard, pried too much, but he was trying to apologize for it. Instead he was met with this insane wall of _rage_ , pushed away like he never even managed to get close. It's completely crazy, of course, but it's more crazy that Will hasn't just shrugged it away and written it off as a lost cause.

Because yeah, Nico di Angelo is cute. And intelligent. And insanely interesting, in a weird, complicated kind of way. But he's not the be-all and end-all. Will certainly shouldn't be caught up over him.

Yet here he is.

He lets out an exasperated noise as he walks towards the shop, fingers tapping out an angry rhythm against the side of his leg that doesn't match the music blaring from his iPod headphones. He's so distracted that he almost doesn't notice what's sitting just in front of the shop's door, almost steps on it before he realizes what he's doing.

His eyes narrow and he bends down, frowning at the flowers that are lying there. They're tied awkwardly together with a piece of what looks like kite string: yellow roses, interspersed with a few purple flowers he recognizes as another variety of hyacinth, and a few white ones he can't recognize. There's a note attached, scribbled in a cramped, awkward hand.

_I'm sorry. I suck at this. Can we try again?_

_\- Nico_

There's a phone number written hastily underneath the words, since they never got the point of exchanging numbers the last time. Will stares at it for a long, long moment, then tilts his head back and laughs, long and loud, the laughter flushing the confusion and annoyance and lingering tension out of his system.

Then he picks up the flowers and unlocks the door to walk inside, digging out his phone as he does so. Because Nico di Angelo might be unpredictable, and strange and hard for Will to understand, but he can't help but want to know more.

Besides, it's hard to ignore a guy willing to put in the effort to make a bouquet that practically screams ' _I'm sorry_ ' more than the note itself does.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flowers involved this chapter: yellow roses, meaning 'forgive and forget' (and a lot of other stuff, but that's the interpretation we're going with). purple hyacinth, meaning 'please forgive me, sorrow.' the white flower is the star of bethlehem, meaning 'i'm sorry.'


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's right, y'all, it's a double-update kind of day.  
> emotional shit is going down. xD be warned.  
> also, ages have been somewhat fudged for the purposes of this story, so please do not look for strict accuracy in that matter during this chapter. thank you!

“Come on, losers!” Leo's voice echoes through the apartment, even though it's not necessary for him to yell, considering Nico and Jason are both sprawled out on the couch barely five feet from him. “We're getting drunk!”

Nico tilts his head back against the arm of the couch to regard his friend, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Did you get turned down again?”

Leo flips him off, making a face. “No! Well, not exactly – I mean, she's pissed off at me, but we still have a date on Saturday, so – just shut up, di Angelo, and get off your ass.”

Jason chuckles beside him, but slides off the couch anyway, nudging Nico with his elbow on the way up. Nico rolls his eyes, but swings his legs around to set his feet on the floor, pushing himself up. “All right, all right.” He reaches for his phone, hesitates a moment, glances at Leo. “Anybody mind if I invite Will?”

Leo shrugs indifferently. “Why not? He's better company than you,” he adds with a broad grin, causing Nico to grab one of the throw pillows from the couch to throw at his head. Leo just dodges, laughing. “Go on, text your dude, and put on some real pants. We'll meet you out front.”

Making a face, Nico nonetheless heads towards his room, pulling up Will's number on his phone as he does. Since the whole apology-flower thing (which somehow ended up working, though Nico is thoroughly convinced it is the most awfully sappy plan he's ever come up with in his life and he will _never do it again_ ), he and Will have been seeing each other occasionally. Grabbing lunch between classes, getting coffee, a movie every once in a while. Nico wouldn't say they're _dating_ , despite what Piper, Leo, and Jason all seem to think, but they're... something. Something slightly more than just friends, slightly less than anything else.

There's still a little tension, of course. Will doesn't bring up Percy again, and neither does Nico. They argue occasionally, because Nico is bad at keeping his temper in check and Will is stubborn as a mule, but they somehow manage to make it work.

It's... weird. Nico actually _likes_ spending time with Will, he's found, but it's so outside of what he's used to. He doesn't hang out with people other than his very close group of friends, doesn't _go out_ with people, doesn't date. He's not sure exactly how to handle Will Solace, isn't sure what he wants. But he wants him around.

So he texts him, which is actually something he's started doing kind of a lot – between classes, sometimes during, if they're boring, when he's home doing nothing. It's clearly just because Will is damned entertaining, even via text message.

_**To: Will** _

_Leo's dragging us out to the bar to drown the misery of his latest girl failure. Want to join us?_

His phone takes about thirty seconds to vibrate with a reply, as Nico is slipping into a clean pair of jeans and, after a moment's consideration of the clothes he's been lounging around in all day, another shirt.

_**From: Will** _

_Wouldn't miss another night of Drunk Leo for the world. I'm off work in an hour, you guys going to the Grapevine again?_

Nico grins at his phone, then catches himself doing it, tempers his smile. He responds with an affirmative, then slips his phone back into his pocket and heads out, sliding into the backseat of the car so Leo, impatient as ever, can get them on the move.

~

It's pretty obvious that the group is already a few rounds in when Will arrives, though he's offered a double shot by Leo so he can catch up. Grinning, he takes the shot, wincing at the burn of the whiskey down his throat before he slides into a seat next to Nico, nudging the other lightly with his shoulder. Nico's not huge on physical contact, he's found out, but he'll allow it in minor doses, is more receptive to it when it's subtle or they're not around other people. He's also a good deal less picky about it when he's been drinking, which he obviously has, by the slight flush on his face.

Will considers putting an arm around him, then dismisses it, as he has quite a few times before. He's being careful, trying not to push, since pushing seems to just result in Nico pushing him away.

He's welcomed by the whole group, as he was the last times he's been around them. Leo he already knows, and Jason and Piper aren't total strangers – he's pretty sure he's had a class with Piper before, and he definitely recognizes Jason from around campus. They all seem to be fairly fond of him, Leo swearing he owes will undying loyalty for getting Calypso to agree to a date with him (not that it took much convincing; the two argue all the time, but a blind man can see they're into each other), Piper and Jason just seeming to be happy that Nico's actually talking to someone. Being around them is comfortable, though there are a few inside jokes he doesn't get, a few bits of history he wasn't there for. Still, overall it's a good time, and he's glad of it.

They drink and talk, Leo lamenting his latest fight with Calypso, the rest of them consoling and making fun at the same time. Nico relaxes enough to lean slightly against Will, and he appreciates even that small point of contact, appreciates even more those broad, open smiles the other shoots his way from time to time. They're rare to see, since they only happen when Nico feels completely comfortable somewhere, not exactly a common occurrence.

He likes them, though. Likes the fact that Nico is starting to get comfortable like that around _him._

They're all to a comfortable level of intoxication, sharing stories about the most ridiculous interactions they've had with their professors, when Will almost _feels_ trouble coming. He's glancing away, not looking for anything in particular, when he spots a familiar face coming towards them. A couple of familiar faces, actually; Percy Jackson is moving towards their table, beaming, his arm around Annabeth Chase, who for once looks not terrifying (Will has seen her in classes, she's _intense_ ) but sublimely happy, like she's on top of the world.

Jason greets Percy with a grin, edging out of his seat to throw an arm around the other in a quick hug (Jason gets touchy when he's drunk, as Will has learned). Piper waves the pair into a seat, Leo offers them shots, even Nico flashes a smile.

It's all fine, because really, Percy is a nice guy, and Annabeth is cool when she's not completely scary. They've all known each other for a while, clearly, and there's a familiarity there, a certain comfortable feeling.

Until Percy looks down sheepishly, nudges his girlfriend, and she laughs and extends her left hand, showing off the brand-new engagement ring on her finger.

The table erupts, Leo letting out a whoop that has half the bar looking at them, Jason offering laughing congratulations, Piper flinging her arms around Annabeth and whispering something in her ear that has both girls laughing. No one sees the look of pain that passes over Nico's face – no one but Will.

Will gives him credit, he covers it well. He quickly schools his expression back into something happier and congratulates the pair, squeezes Annabeth's shoulder and flashes her a smile that seems more than half genuine. He doesn't bear her any ill will, it seems like; it's not her fault, after all. Still, Nico's tense as they talk about when the wedding is being planned for, how Percy botched his proposal at first, the fact that all of them (save Will, for obvious reasons) are going to be in the wedding party. He drinks more, talks less, and when he makes some half-assed excuse about needing to be up early in the morning and nudges Will out of the way so he can leave, Will catches Piper and Leo both shooting half-worried looks after him.

It's Jason who looks to him, a question in his eyes. So Will makes his own excuses, tells Percy and Annabeth it's nice to meet them and congratulations, and follows after Nico.

~

The worst part is, Nico can't say he wasn't expecting it.

He's known for a long time that Percy and Annabeth are _it_ , that they are each other's one and only. Percy's sent him messages asking if Nico thought he was moving too fast, if he was in too deep, if Annabeth was going to laugh in his face and blow him off if he ever actually got up the guts to ask her. Nico was supportive – hell, he's always been supportive, because he can't _not_ be, because Percy has been his friend for far too long, and Nico can't just leave him out to dry.

So he knew it was coming. Somehow, that doesn't lessen the blow.

He makes it about a block outside of the bar before he can't take it, before he stops, feeling like his heart has been ripped out of his chest. He also feels light-headed, dizzy, far too drunk and far too overwhelmed. He leans against the wall of a neighboring building unsteadily, not sure if he's going to throw up or just scream.

A hand touches his arm, and he whips around, stumbling. Will catches him, steadies him – because of _course_ it's Will, because he sees too much, notices too many things that Nico would rather he didn't. “Are you okay?” His voice is low and worried, and Nico sort of wants to punch him and sort of wants to kiss him because he's _not_ okay, he's not anywhere in the general vicinity of okay.

Instead of doing anything, he just stares at Will for a long moment, and apparently the other takes that as answer enough. He lets go of Nico's arm once he's sure the other is steady on his feet, then takes a breath. “Okay. We'll get you out of here.”

He hails a cab, and Nico isn't even paying attention as he gives an address, but he knows it isn't his own. It makes sense – there will probably be an after-party, back at the apartment, and taking him back into that isn't going to help matters at all. He's never actually been to Will's place, isn't at all sure where exactly he lives, whether on-campus or off, but he doesn't care. It's far from his mind at the moment.

Will sits close to him in the back of the cab, but doesn't touch him. He's just watching him, and Nico can almost feel the weight of his worry, but he feels somehow separated from it, distant. He doesn't say a word, doesn't even thank the cab driver when they make it to wherever the hell they are and climb out of the car. Will pays and doesn't complain, just touches Nico's wrist lightly and leads him towards his door.

They're off-campus, in an apartment building that is frequented by university students. As such, it's not too impressive a place, but it's decently clean, mostly everything works, and it's something affordable and close. Will leads him up to the third floor, digging a key out of his pocket and letting them both in.

The apartment is quiet, which is strange to Nico for a moment, since he's so used to living with Jason, having Piper and sometimes Leo hanging around all the time, there never really being a moment's peace. It's quickly evident that there's no one else here, that Will isn't living with roommates unless they're stashed in a closet somewhere. Other than that, Nico is barely paying attention to the place, except to sit down heavily on the couch Will directs him to, staring blankly at the carpet beneath his feet.

He hears water running, and Will brings him back a glass, pressing it into his hands. “Drink. You're still going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow, but it'll help a little.” Nico can still hear that concern in his voice, and he focuses on him, trying to make his brain stay in one place. The blond is crouched on the floor in front of him, a small worried crease between his brows, his hands steadying the glass because Nico's not quite gripping it. He's half doctor looking after his patient, trying to mitigate the sheer quantity of alcohol Nico has had in the last hour, and half... he doesn't even know what.

He just looks at him like he gives a damn, and it _kills_ him, it really does, because he doesn't deserve it.

“I hated him once,” he blurts out, not sure why he's talking, not sure why he's bringing up the past. Will's brows furrow, but he just nods for Nico to go on. Maybe he realizes that he needs to get it out, maybe he knows it's going to happen anyway, it doesn't matter. Nico is too drunk, too hurt, and he's rambling without thinking about it, the words spilling over themselves as they fall from his lips.

“He lived down the street from me. Knew my – my sister, my older sister, Bianca. When she died, he... “ Nico shakes his head, because the memory still hurts, brings a lump to his throat. “He tried to come talk to me, tried to tell me he was sorry, and I hated him. _Hated._ I didn't want his sympathy, his pity. He didn't know anything about how it felt.” Will shifts, moving from the floor to the couch next to him, leaving Nico clutching the glass of water. He takes a long sip from it, trying to clear his throat, trying to corral his words into something coherent.

“I didn't talk to him for years. Ignored him. We went to school together, but he's two years older, so it wasn't – I didn't have to deal with him. He was everywhere, though. Horrible student, but he knew everybody, _cared_ about everybody. I don't remember when I stopped hating him. I just remember seeing him standing up to these three guys, like twice the size of him, sticking up for some dorky kid they were trying to mess with, and realizing I just didn't anymore. He always... “ He swallows, takes another sip of water. “He's always been like that. It's stupid, and reckless, but he just jumps into things, doesn't care if he gets hurt, as long as someone else doesn't. That's why I... “

His voice breaks, and all of a sudden he can't breathe. His hands are shaking, the water sloshing over the top edges of the glass until Will takes it from him, sets it on the coffee table. He says something, but either Nico can't hear it or he can't understand; it feels like the world is spiraling away from him, utterly and completely out of control.

Will touches his shoulder, and he doesn't shrug him off or push him away. Slowly, carefully, the blond tugs him closer, until Nico's pulled tight against his chest, holding him while he shakes with silent sobs. Nico holds out a moment, and then just presses his face against the other's shoulder, for once letting himself take comfort from another person.

He doesn't know how long he stays there. Eventually, the world fades to black.

 


	7. Chapter Seven

Nico doesn't know where he is when he wakes up.

He's staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, mouth dry and tasting like he's licked a city sidewalk. His head is ringing like a bell, his whole body aching. He blinks, frowns, tries to sit up and immediately feels a swirl of dizziness roll through his mind and thinks better of it.

There's a small movement, and he turns his head, slowly, to see Will. The other looks frazzled and unkempt, like he hasn't slept all night. Considering he appears to be propped up against the side of a bathtub, Nico himself sprawled across a tile floor, he seems to have very good reason to have not slept.

Still, he manages a smile when he realizes Nico is awake, though it's thin and there's no real light in his eyes. “Hey,” he says, and even though his voice is soft, it still feels too loud to Nico's oversensitive ears. “How are you feeling?”

Nico considers the question. “Like I've been hit by a truck. Actually...” He pauses, takes stock of the throbbing headache and the overall sense of illness. “... five or six trucks.”

Will laughs, though it's a weak, anemic chuckle. “Well, you only look like you've been hit by three or four. Lucky you.” He extends hand, carefully helps Nico sit up. “Stay there. You need to get more water in you before you go anywhere.”

He leaves for a moment, and Nico is alone, in the quiet of what is definitely Will's apartment bathroom. It doesn't take a lot of thought to realize how he got here, even though his memories of last night are somewhat fuzzy after a certain point. He does remember the bar, though; remembers Percy and Annabeth coming in, remembers the engagement ring. He remembers drinking about his own body weight in bad whiskey, remembers Will bringing him back here, remembers telling him... _everything_.

Nico groans, putting his face in his hands, as Will comes back through the door. The other crouches down next to him again, hand warm against his shoulder. “Hey, you all right? Feel like you're gonna be sick again?” The 'again' proves it's been something of a constant throughout the night, which Nico is not at all surprised by.

He shakes his head, but his lips are pressed tight together, like he is trying to keep something back. Will studies him for a long moment, he can feel the weight of his gaze even without looking up; then he hears the sound of a glass being set down on the edge of the tub, and warm arms are around him, solid and secure, pulling him close. “It's okay,” Will says softly, and Nico focuses on that voice, on the feeling it brings him – something like being safe. “You're going to be okay.”

He doesn't believe those words. But he does, strangely, believe in _Will_.

~

It's well after noon by the time Will finally manages to get to bed. Not that he minds; he's been taking care of Nico, making sure the other is at least somewhat coherent enough to get home, that he'll be all right once he gets there. He calls an Uber even though Nico insists he can make the walk back, since it's not an impossible distance, and extracts a promise from the other to text him or call him if he needs anything. Anything at all.

The moment the other leaves, Will all but collapses. He's exhausted, physically and mentally, so drained he almost doesn't know how to handle it.

Not that he regrets it. That's one thing he knows clearly, despite how tired he is. Last night might have been a complete and utter mess, but he doesn't regret being there.

Because now he knows. He's intuitive enough to have picked up a few things, has been able to guess some stuff from things Nico has said, or things he's shied away from. Now he has the full story, every piece of the puzzle fallen into place. It's a lot to take in, but it's the honesty he's wanted from the other, what he's been trying to get out of him. Even if it took a hell of a lot of alcohol and an event that left him shell-shocked, Nico's opened up to him.

Trouble is, now Will doesn't know what to do. Because Nico is clearly, unequivocally in love with Percy Jackson. And even though the guy's completely oblivious, about to get married to someone else, Will isn't sure he can compete with that.

He's not even sure he should try. Not if Nico's been clinging so desperately to these unreciprocated feelings for this long.

He shifts on his mattress, unable to get comfortable, feeling the strain of having basically held Nico up all night while the other was vomiting up what seemed like the full contents of the Grapevine's substantial bar. His body's worn out, but his mind won't rest. He twists again, picks up his phone, frowns at it, puts it back down, ignores it. He needs to sleep. That's it, nothing else. Sleep will help get his mind in order, help him figure out what on earth he's supposed to do.

The phone buzzes. Will turns to look at it, scowls, ignores it. A second buzz; he picks it up, frown forming a slight crease between his brows.

_**From: Nico** _

_Made it home safely._

_**From: Nico** _

… _thank you._

Will stares at the messages for a long moment. Then he types out a quick, 'you're welcome,' hits the send button, and finally manages to let himself settle into sleep.

~

Nico tries to be quiet as he heads into the apartment, but he's also not remotely surprised to see Jason on the couch waiting for him, looking utterly worried. He gets up and strides towards his roommate as Nico shuts the door behind him. “Are you okay? You look like... where were you?” That's Jason, never able to say anything ill against a friend, even though Nico is absolutely certain that he _does_ look like utter shit, and wouldn't have taken the comment amiss.

He feels like shit. He feels worse than that, like the utter scum of the earth. It's not just the hangover, either.

“I'm fine,” he mutters, although it's clear that he is anything but. He looks up at Jason, at the absolutely sincere concern on his face, and feels like a total asshole. “I was at Will's.”

Jason's brows furrow slightly, a frown twisting his lips. “Please tell me you didn't-- “

Nico shakes his head immediately, cutting the other off before he can get any further into that line of thought. Jason's not wrong in being worried, though; Nico has dealt with his Percy issues via drunken one-night-stands more than once. That thought has never even crossed his mind, though, not with Will. Well, not that it hasn't _at all_ , but not--

He's going down a dark road in his own mind now, and it just makes him feel worse. “No. I just blacked out after spilling my whole damn life story to him.” His voice is bitter, and he shakes off the comforting hand Jason tries to put on his shoulder. “It's fine. I just... I just want to sleep. Okay?”

Jason hesitates, but finally nods, shifting out of the way so Nico can move past him towards his room. He can feel the eyes on him, can feel the weight of his friend's worries where his gaze rests against his back, but he just shuts the door between them, walling himself off like he always does.

He strips out the clothes he's still wearing that reek of alcohol and sickness, considers showering but doesn't want to brave going outside of his own room right now. Instead he curls into his bed, tangles his sheets around him, and tries not to think.

It doesn't work.

He still doesn't entirely remember the night, but he remembers enough. Remembers basically dumping all of his baggage on Will; remembers the look on the other's face, remembers the hurt he was so good at hiding. Remembers the fact that Will _took care of him_ , even though Nico knows he didn't deserve it. He has no idea quite how bad the night was, but he can make a fairly well-educated guess judging by how he feels right now.

He doesn't know how to apologize enough. He doesn't know how he's supposed to act now, doesn't know how to fix things – not that they were perfect to begin with, but anything is better than on-and-off flirting with a guy who knows he's in love with someone else.

The thought sends a twinge of guilt through him, and it's not the familiar Percy-related guilt, either.

Nico just drags his pillow over his head and tries to shut out the thoughts, tries to shut out the world. It's unhelpful, but eventually exhaustion takes over.

~

Will is staring at his phone, so he doesn't notice when a customer comes in until he hears someone clearing their throat, loudly enough that it's obviously a deliberate bid for attention.

He jolts upright behind the counter, guiltily tucking his phone back away in his pocket. He knows he shouldn't be on it at work, but he hasn't heard from Nico in days. He shouldn't care, he really shouldn't. More than once now he should have given up the other as a lost cause. Instead, he finds himself wanting to reach out, but stopping himself; finds himself staring and waiting, but not sure what he'll do if the other _does_ send him a message. It's weird and it's obsessive and Will wishes he could rationalize it, but that's not his strong suit.

The girl standing in front of the counter at Demeter's is a blonde, with grey eyes that feel like they're cutting right through him. It takes him a moment to realize that he knows her, or at least recognizes her. Annabeth looks different outside of school and the impromptu engagement shindig at the bar (though admittedly Will was focused on Nico, so he really wasn't paying attention to what she looked like then). She's surprisingly casual, dressed in ratty jeans and a sweatshirt two sizes too big that's seen better days, but her gaze is still that scary, piercing focus he remembers seeing from her in classes, when she's fixed on a subject she's interested in.

He is really not that happy to be the subject of it. “Can I, uh, help you with something?”

“Are you dating Nico?” Her question is cool and matter of fact, and catches him completely off guard, leaving him stammering for a non-existent response. She sighs, and rephrases the question. “Nico di Angelo. You know, short, angry, overly invested in looking like an underfed goth kid. Are you or are you not dating him?” There's something intense in her voice, and it takes Will a moment to realize it's protectiveness.

Nico never mentioned Annabeth, despite how drunk he was. But he's clearly known her as long as he's known Percy and Jason and the rest, and it's clear there's no bad blood. Considering the blonde looks like she's about to eviscerate Will on principle alone, he thinks there must be more to the story.

“No,” he finally manages to get out, not sure why he's so unable to form words. “I'm not-- I mean, I thought maybe, for a while, but-- “

She actually looks like she understands that stammered explanation, which more than anything proves she knows Nico enough to know how he operates. He doesn't get close to people easily, and she clearly knows that, though she only relaxes a fraction upon hearing Will's response. It's confusing, and intimidating, but she's slightly less scary when she speaks again. “Okay. I'm sorry, I just... I know he left with you the other night, and I was concerned.”

“ _Concerned_?” Will's voice is unwontedly sharp, but maybe it's just the surprise. “Why – how do you even remember that? Weren't you, you know, celebrating your recent engagement?”

She eyes him again, and there's a hint of humor there, but it still cuts to the bone. “Does that matter? I don't stop observing things just because something big happens in my own life. I'd be a pretty awful friend if I did.”

He's speechless, he honestly is, because the last thing he expected was someone to come in and start _talking_ to him about Nico when he's been agonizing about talking _to_ Nico, especially someone like Annabeth. Jason he'd expect, or maybe his girlfriend. Leo, possibly. This woman, the soon-to-be-wife of the guy Nico has been infatuated with for most of his adult life... Never.

Yet here she is.

And apparently, she doesn't deal well with silent shocked idiocy, because she looks vaguely annoyed before she begins talking again. “Look, I don't claim to know the exact situation. I can guess, but I don't know anything for sure; he doesn't talk to me much. But don't you dare hurt him. He's been through enough.” Her voice goes dark and terrifying again, and Will is fairly certain she could actually murder him in his sleep without remorse.

“I don't-- I don't want to,” he gets out, voice sounding unpleasantly unsure. Then he says perhaps the stupidest thing he has ever said, in the history of his entire life, or possibly the entire universe itself: “He's in love with your fiance.”

He's pretty sure the world stops for him just then, because Nico would kill him if he knew Will has said anything, and Will sort of wants to fling himself through the nearest window for being such an idiot. But Annabeth just looks at him. Those cool grey eyes are filled with many things: with worry, and with compassion, and with something in them that seems like it's been there a long, long time, a simple acceptance. Because Annabeth Chase is smart, one of the smartest people on campus; and she's observant. She sees things that people think are hidden.

“I know,” she says softly, and it's sad, but not upset. Just distantly bothered, not for herself, but because she knows that someone else is getting hurt. “Just don't hurt him worse.”

Then she's turning on her heel, heading for the door. She turns to look back for just a moment, looks Will over once more, and says, “I'll be in touch about flowers for the wedding.” Then she's gone, and he's not sure whether it was approval or punishment, whether he should be relieved or even more terrified.

All he knows is that he can't keep waiting.

He reaches for his phone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahah EVERYTHING IS EMOTIONAL AND I HATE MYSELF  
> featuring: everyone's self-loathing; will and nico are bad at open communication; annabeth is the smartest chick in any given room.  
> thank you everyone who's been reading! i swear things are going to get better! ... eventually!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO BEAUTY BABIES! sorry for the delay, and thank you to those who have been sticking with me!  
> enjoy another chapter, with more updates to come!

Will is waiting for him in front of the theater, hands shoved into his jean pockets, looking about as nervous and uncomfortable as Nico feels. Still, he smiles when he sees him, and Nico feels that smile cut him to the bone, knows he doesn't deserve it. He knows he doesn't deserve this second – no, _third_ – chance, didn't deserve it when Will texted him, asked if they could meet, doesn't deserve it now. But he still said _yes_ , still came out here. Is still standing here, finding some tiny shred of hope that he also doesn't deserve.

It's just a movie. He knows it's nothing, that Will is just being nice, because he's too damn nice a guy. Maybe he just feels bad for Nico, wants to try to distract him, to try to take his mind off other things.

It's a pity date. That's it. He shouldn't think anything of it.

But he _does_ , and he's not even sure why.

He can't exactly smile back, but he nods Will's way, chews the inside of his lip as he walks up to him. They stand there for a long moment, and it's tense, and it's as awkward as Nico knew it was going to be, and he considers just apologizing and walking away. Then Will laughs, low and sheepish. “Sorry. Guess I've lost my capacity for small talk. You wanna head in?”

Nico nods again, and Will nudges him with an elbow, and it almost feels like it did before things got screwed up, before Nico dumped his entire sordid non-relationship history out on the other, before he got drunk and freaked out and somehow still didn't manage to scare Will away. It almost feels like things are going to be okay.

They buy their tickets, Will makes a stupid joke while they're in line to get popcorn, and slowly the tension eases out of Nico's shoulders.

Maybe this isn't a total mistake.

~

Will can't actually tell if it's going well, or terribly.

Nico is quiet, which doesn't surprise him. He knew this was going to be awkward, knew there's still a lot they haven't discussed. He's trying to ignore it; trying to leave it as water under the bridge, or something like that, since bringing it up is just going to make things weird. It's there though, hovering over both their shoulders, making him feel more than a little stifled. Still, he tries to act as normally as possible, and he can see that it's helping. Just maybe not enough.

The movie is... actually, he can't even focus on the movie, would be hard pressed to even remember what the hell it is they're watching, because his attention is all on Nico. He's watching him more than the screen, looking away when the other seems to notice he's paying attention. Trying to figure him out. Because Nico has all these friends around him who want him to be okay, who want to help him. _Will_ wants that, too. He just doesn't know how.

Staring at him while he's watching a movie is, admittedly, not an extraordinarily helpful endeavor.

He doesn't realize he's fidgeting, fingers drumming against the armrest between them, until Nico shoots a pointed look at his hand. Will looks sheepish for a moment, apologetic. Instead of saying anything – because bad movie etiquette, and everything – Nico just looks away, though Will thinks he catches the faintest flicker of a wry smile pulling at one corner of his mouth.

After a moment, Will's hand slides off the armrest, finds Nico's wrist. The other doesn't move, doesn't pull away, so he shifts just a little, hand moving to cover Nico's. He can feel a momentary tension in the muscles of the other's arm; then he relaxes, turns his hand so he can twine his fingers with Will's.

So that's okay, then. So things aren't all bad; at least for now. Nico could easily have withdrawn back into himself, leaving Will adrift and not knowing how much previously gained ground has been lost. This is better, simpler.

Still not anything like _easy_ , but that's all right.

~

They take their time after the movie, electing to walk back to campus and their respective homes, and Nico hopes it's because Will wants to spend more time with him, not because he feels obligated. They ease back into conversation, and it's all dumb small talk and references to jokes they've made between themselves before, and Nico can feel the last bits of fear sliding away. He's not sure how, exactly, he's managed not to fuck everything up. He's actually pretty sure it has nothing to do with anything that he's done, and everything to do with the fact that Will is just that freaking amazing.

It's not pity. He's dismissed this notion by now, because he'd be able to see it, be able to recognize it. There's still something reserved and almost worried that wasn't there before, but that's understandable, considering. It's not pushing Will away. There's a resolve to him as well, a stubborn streak Nico's noticed before.

He's not mad at it. For once, he's actually grateful for it.

He realizes after a pause that's just a few seconds too long that he's stopped moving, that he's staring at Will the same way the other was staring at him earlier, studying him like he's some fascinating thing, something he's never seen before. Nico flushes, turns his gaze quickly to the ground. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Will smiles. It's a small thing at first, and then it blossoms into a full-blown grin, into something with laughter flickering in his eyes, with barely restrained amusement locked behind his tongue. But he doesn't say anything – instead he just leans forward, a hand sliding up to catch Nico's chin and tilt his face back upward, holding his gaze. He moves easily, without thought, without hesitation, warm lips brushing briefly against his, and Nico suddenly feels like he's gone ten shades darker red and fifty degrees warmer than he should be.

Not in a bad way, though.

Not at _all_.

“Date me?” Will asks when he pulls back, a brush of laughter in his voice, though there's something almost nervous there, too. He sounds as breathless as Nico feels, but his eyes are warm, serious. “Like, not just this whole 'friends who do date-type things but never address the issue' thing. For real.”

There's a hesitation there, because Nico knows for a fact Will's been holding back on asking him, on pushing him, on trying to put a label on what exactly they're doing. Now that he knows the reason for Nico's own hesitation, though, he's putting all his cards on the table. He's putting out there what he wants, trying to make sure Nico wants it too.

Another moment of silent stretches between them, the tension thickening with every passing heartbeat. Finally, _finally_ Nico manages to find words, though, speaking around a small, fond, almost relieved smile of his own.

“... I think I can do that.”

 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO FRIENDS! apologies for the long lapse; i promise i've not abandoned you yet! we are back in business!

“No.”

Jason rolls his eyes, lets out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Nico; it'll be a good time.”

“How, exactly, is Percy's bachelor party supposed to be a good time for me? Aren't you planning on doing the horrible cliché and dragging him to a strip club? Did you forget the part where topless women hold zero interest for me? Besides, they've barely announced the engagement, and the wedding isn't gonna be until they're both out of school. Why are we throwing a party now?” Nico's tone is only half-teasing; the truth is, he's forgotten this damn party was supposed to be tonight, doesn't remember whether he'd ever agreed to it, anyway. Surely not. He can get drunk with his friends pretty much any night of the week, without having to be subjected to the pure idiocy that is a bachelor party.

His roommate is leaning against the arm of the couch where Nico is sprawled, looking down at him. It's fairly clear he's not going to take no for an answer, but Nico's trying, anyway. “You know why; Leo's insisting, since he might be out of state by the time the actual wedding comes around. It won't be that bad. Will's coming,” he adds, with the faintly smug air of someone throwing down a trump card.

Nico sits up, a faintly baffled look crossing his face. “Wait, what? Will _Solace_? The Will who is definitely, unequivocally also not straight? How did that happen?” Now there's a thin thread of laughter in his words, and Jason grins.

“Apparently he and Percy have a class together this semester. He decided any boyfriend of his friend is a friend of his, or... something to that effect.” The blond shrugs. “So are you coming, or are you leaving him alone to be interrogated?”

It's Nico's turn to roll his eyes, but he shoves himself up off the couch. “Fine, _fine_. If you're going to blackmail me... “

His friend laughs, grinning again. “Party's at nine. Try not to be too excited.”

~

If there's anything more hilarious to Will at the moment than the fact that he has somehow been coerced into going to a strip club, it's watching Nico in said strip club. The amusement factor might have been helped by the sheer mass of alcohol that has been consumed over the course of the evening, but he's not about to dismiss it. The night has been surprisingly pleasant so far, and he plans to keep it that way.

It was one of the few reasons he agreed when Percy asked him to come to the bachelor party, anyway. The last couple of months have been on an upswing; he and Nico have been dating, seeing each other as much as they can with their class and work schedules, and the other has seemed like something close to happy. The last thing Will wants is to see it all come crashing down again, and he knows that putting Nico in close proximity to anything relating to Percy's wedding could have that effect. So he's here, keeping an eye on his boyfriend, pleased to see that the other has been in a good (and only slightly alcohol-enhanced) mood all night.

His attention isn't even _on_ Percy; right now it's fixed on the girl currently performing onstage, though rather than an expression of interest or desire, his face looks confused, and vaguely concerned. That could be due to the fact that said girl is currently hanging upside down on a pole, practically six feet above the floor, apparently with her entire body weight held by the bend of one knee around the metal. Even Will can admit that's impressive. “How,” Nico says half under his breath, sounding as baffled as he looks, and Will laughs, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him in.

It's definitely a sign of the improvement in their relationship that Nico settles in against him with no complaint or comment, even though they're in public, even though the (hopefully former) object of his affections is on the opposite side of the horseshoe-shaped booth they're sharing. He turns his attention away from the performer for a moment to smile up at Will, and it's sweet, if a little drunk. The blond dips his head, kissing him quickly; the contact is still something of a revelation. They've been taking things slow, mostly because Will still really doesn't want to scare Nico away.

An elbow is jostled into his ribs, and Will pulls back with a laugh, glancing over his shoulder at Leo, who is making a face at them. “Nope, don't even start, this is not the party for happy couple shenanigans, that is not how I envisioned it,” he says with a mock-stern tone, though the faint curl of a smile gives him away.

Will's grin broadens. “Hey, don't get mad 'cause Calypso wasn't invited. You'd do the same thing.”

“Assuming she didn't kick your ass,” Percy points out with a laugh. The conversation quickly degenerates into further good-natured ribbing – none of them are drunk enough to be completely out of hand, and most of them know each other too well to say anything really hurtful – and Will turns his attention back to Nico.

He's tempted to kiss him again, but the music turns to something loud and fast, apparently for the next performer, and it's not the kind of mood he wants. Maybe a stupid and romantic thing to think, but hell, he doesn't care. He just focuses on the fact that Nico is still tucked close against his side, warm and happy, and lets it go.

~

The night has gone on for what feels like far too long when they finally start to head out, but Nico is actually glad he left the apartment. For a completely cliché, ridiculous idea, the evening was actually sort of... _fun_ , despite the fact that he still has absolutely zero idea as to the appeal of strip clubs, save for the fact that the women who work there evidently defy death and gravity via poles and absurdly high heels every night.

Their entire group is more than a little drunk; Percy most of all, being the bachelor for whom the party was thrown. He's got his arms slung around Jason and Leo's shoulders and they appear to be supporting the majority of his weight, keeping him from stumbling as they hail a cab. Jason, apparently being the responsible adult tonight, flashes a quick, apologetic smile at Nico as he starts to maneuver his friend into the car. “I should make sure he gets home safe. You want to grab another cab, make sure you do the same?”

Nico nods, leaning just a little on Will as he watches the others disappear behind the cab's doors. Leo lives a block away from Percy, so it makes complete sense that he's staying with them – he's also about as drunk as Percy himself is, so Jason's help will probably be welcome to get him home, too. Their departure leaves him and Will alone, and Nico's... not mad at it. Actually, he's rather loath to let go of the other at the moment, and it's not entirely because his balance is a little off-kilter.

“We should... probably just share a cab, yeah? You're not that far from me, makes more sense.” Actually, Nico's not sure that it does, but despite how late it is, he doesn't want to end the evening at the curb in front of a strip club.

Will smiles at him, in that way that sort of makes Nico want to melt into a puddle on the floor. “Yeah, sure.”

They track down another car – not like it's hard, from this hour and this location. Both of them are quiet as they slide into the backseat, possibly enjoying the fact that their eardrums are no longer being assailed by insanely loud music. Nico slips his hand into Will's, threading his fingers through the other's, running his thumb absently across the back of his knuckles. There's a thick sort of tension between the two of them, but it's not a bad thing. Nico just isn't sure if it's being driven by alcohol, or adrenaline, or something completely beyond both of those.

It's too soon when the cab pulls up to Will's building, and Nico glances down at their twined hands. He doesn't want to let go. He's not usually one for public displays of affection, or overt contact, but he's becoming more and more used to it from Will, which has turned into a sort of craving for it. It's strange for him, neither the blatant physicality of a one-night-stand, nor the reserved contact he's accustomed to from friends and family. It's kind of addictive.

The meter is still running, he realizes, and Will is just looking at him, door propped open, waiting for Nico to let go. He's smiling, though, leaning towards Nico until their foreheads are nearly touching. His voice is soft, but his gaze is intent. “Do you want to come up?”

It's almost 3 AM, they're both intoxicated. Nico should go home, get some sleep (after he waits to make sure Jason's all right, or until he gets a text telling him he's staying at Percy's or Leo's). Instead, he nods, and the movement brings him close, lets him lean close enough to brush a quick kiss against the corner of Will's mouth. It's meant to be a soft, almost playful thing, but suddenly there's a lot more heat between them than Nico initially intended. “... yeah.” He swallows hard, throat strangely dry for a moment, then lets Will pay the driver and draw him out of the cab.

The tension between them thickens as they head towards the stairs, but Nico doesn't care at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bachelor party absurdity, anyone?  
> also, nico is fascinated by pole dancers, because they are hella impressive.   
> hope you've enjoyed! i'll be back with another update very, very soon!

**Author's Note:**

> YES, THERE IS MORE COMING!
> 
> i am doing way too much research on flowers and shit for this piece, i swear. xD please let me know what you think; i'll be updating soon!


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